IX

"I'm so thrilled that my favorite daughter is marrying your nephew, Lenore," Dad said with a pleased smile, turning toward Zion’s aunt, Lenore Warren.

We were gathered around the dining table, the air thick with unspoken words. I sat beside my sister, Geneva, who had been eerily quiet, her expression laced with confusion. I could tell she was unsettled by Yohan’s sudden presence. She didn’t know him—of course, she didn’t. Geneva never involved herself in business matters.

Mom, on the other hand, remained silent beside Dad, making no effort to engage with Madame Lenore. Her usual warmth was absent, replaced by a distant, unreadable expression.

And me?

I had no idea how I was supposed to react.

Even now, I couldn’t wrap my head around it—Yohan had changed his mind.

Why?

What had suddenly made him agree to marry me?

"I'm also excited for the Warren and Allen families to finally become one! Isn’t it amazing, my dear?" Madame Lenore’s voice was filled with delight as she turned to Yohan with a beaming smile.

But Yohan, seated beside her, merely gave a curt nod, his expression cold.

I was about to look away—but then I caught him staring.

A sharp, intense gaze.

My breath hitched. My pulse pounded.

It felt like his eyes were pinning me to my seat, unraveling me.

"Setta, are you okay?"

Geneva’s soft voice broke through my haze. Her fingers curled around my hand, noticing the coldness of my skin.

I forced a smile and nodded, burying every ounce of stress behind a well-practiced mask.

Dinner continued in unbearable silence. The air felt heavy, awkward. Geneva and I exchanged glances more than once, both sensing the same unease.

Even after we finished eating, we remained seated while Dad and Madame Lenore carried on their conversation, shifting to Warren business matters. I hesitated to engage, instead focusing on my glass of water—just something to distract myself.

Then—

"Can I talk to Cosette in private?" Yohan’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

The conversation halted.

Dad and Madame Lenore looked momentarily surprised, but Dad quickly recovered, flashing an approving smile.

"Sure! We’ve finished our discussion earlier, and dinner is over, so you can talk to Cosette now."

I swallowed hard.

The coldness I had felt all evening seemed to intensify.

Yohan stood, his gaze flicking toward me. Without a word, he gestured for me to follow.

I hesitated.

But what choice did I have?

Slowly, I stood and trailed behind him, leaving the dining area. He kept walking until we reached the outside of the house, where the night air was crisp yet suffocating.

And then—

His hand grabbed my arm.

"Yohan, what are you doing?" My voice wavered as he pulled me along, his grip tightening with every step. "Where are you taking me? Let me go!"

I struggled, but he was too strong. Every attempt to resist sent sharp pain up my arm.

"AHHH!" A cry escaped my lips as he suddenly pressed me against the wall.

My breath hitched.

The realization dawned on me—

We had reached the back of the house.

A dark, secluded place where no one ventured at night. No one could see us. No one could hear me.

My heart pounded violently. "Y-Yohan, let me go! What are you doing?!" My voice shook with fury and panic as I glared at him.

But he didn’t budge.

Instead, he captured both of my wrists, lifting them above my head, pinning them against the wall.

I fought. I fought hard.

But I was trapped.

And there was no escape.

"Stop fighting me, Cosette," he murmured, his voice deep, husky. A smirk curled on his lips.

"We’re getting married. So from now on, you’ll obey me—always."

My body betrayed me.

At Yohan’s words, a shiver ran down my spine, my skin tingling, my heart hammering against my chest. My breath came short and uneven, as if the very air around us had thickened.

"W-Why did you agree?" My voice trembled. "Why do you want to marry me?"

I didn’t expect an answer.

I wasn’t sure I wanted one.

A creeping sense of dread curled in my stomach, tightening like a noose. The truth was, I didn’t know Yohan—not really. And that terrified me. What if… what if he was capable of something worse than I imagined?

He released one of my wrists, and for a fleeting second, I thought he was letting me go.

I was wrong.

His fingers trailed over my cheek—a slow, deliberate caress.

I froze.

I didn’t dare move.

He was toying with me, I realized.

"Hmmm. Why indeed, Miss Cosette Blanche Allen?" He murmured, voice dripping with amusement. Then, his smirk faded.

"First of all, you ruined my life."

I sucked in a breath.

Our eyes met, and I wished they hadn’t.

Beneath the cold amusement, beneath his unsettling calmness, was pure, seething rage.

I felt it radiating off him, suffocating and unrelenting.

"Please, Yohan," I whispered. My fingers curled into fists at my sides, trying to steady myself. "Whatever you're planning… don't do it."

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. He barely blinked as he leaned in, his expression unreadable, that demon-like smirk still playing on his lips.

"Oh, weirdo…" His voice dropped to a taunting whisper. "You should be grateful. You're marrying a powerful man. Isn’t that what you wanted from the start?"

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "That’s why you showed up at my condo—to seduce me."

"I didn’t want that!" I shot back, glaring.

I was trembling, but I forced myself to keep my voice steady. "Okay, I admit I was wrong! It’s my fault! I should’ve double-checked the damn room before walking in—I was drunk, Yohan! But you don’t have to marry me. I’ll talk to my dad, I’ll fix this. I’ll convince him to call off the wedding, so please… just let this go.”

I meant it.

Even if it broke me, even if I had to fight tooth and nail against my father’s wishes, I would do everything in my power to stop this disastrous marriage.

I needed Yohan to see that.

That I regretted everything. That it had never been my intention to… to trap him.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Just stared.

Unmoving.

His grip on my wrist loosened.

A flicker of hope bloomed in my chest. Maybe—just maybe—I was getting through to him.

But that hope shattered the instant he grabbed my waist and yanked me forward.

A gasp escaped me. Instinctively, my hands flew to his chest.

I felt him. The heat of his body. The steady rise and fall of his breath.

I was too close.

Too trapped.

My entire body stiffened as he leaned in, his lips dangerously near mine, his gaze burning into me.

Then—

His fingers grazed my cheek, a touch both gentle and terrifying.

His lips brushed against my ear. Then his tongue.

A violent shudder racked through me. My fingers dug into his shirt, my body suddenly weak.

"Y-Yohan..." My breath hitched as an involuntary sound slipped past my lips.

His fingertips traced over my parted lips, teasing, testing, torturing.

His next words sent my world spiraling into darkness.

"I'm not going to let you go, Cosette."

I blinked, stunned.

My pulse thundered. My body burned under the weight of his stare.

And then—

"I will make you suffer while you're married to me, Cosette Blanche Allen."

His smirk widened, triumphant.

"Face your consequences… and good luck on your new journey as Mrs. Warren."